The Eighth Wonder
by Faceless Emmy
Summary: Post-canon Coven. Misty is stuck in hell, but not for the reason you'd expect. Once she's back, she discovers she has a gift that has never been seen before. Zoe faces tragedy, Cordelia comes to terms with her desires and Queenie uncovers a secret about her past. Misty may live, but only death may pay for life... Bensay, Spenson, eventual Foxxay, Queenie/OC, Misty/OC, OC/OC
1. Zoe I

Zoe's eyes snapped open to the sight of the harsh white ceiling of a classroom. Jars lined the room, each containing a dead frog, spindly limbs stretched out as if they were flailing to escape. Children sat at the desks, each working at a frog with a scalpel. Strangely, no posters or crude depictions of atoms plastered the walls like most science classroom walls, which gave the room the bleak air of a clinic or a surgery. _A dream, _Zoe thought. She had always been able to tell dreams from reality. She was also good at manipulating her dreams to her advantage. Lucid dreaming was the most common power in witches, but most people who had it didn't develop any other powers, so they thought nothing of it.

A teacher paced around the classroom. He walked with an air self importance and his eyes glinted with malice. It was evident that the children feared him, as whenever he walked behind one of them, the child would stop what they were doing as if they were expecting criticism, not quite daring to look at him. None of them seemed to notice Zoe, who was quite out of place among the twelve-year-olds. _  
_

The first thing Zoe noticed was the full grown girl sitting on the other side of the room, her hair a mess of wild blonde curls. She wore a long, ruffled dress of black lace and a floral shawl draped around her shoulders. Silver rings adorned her fingers, which were clasped around her frog. _Misty. _

Suddenly, the boy sat opposite Misty raised his head. "Mr Cringley, she did it again!" he shouted, before smirking at her. The frog that was under her hands hopped around the desk. Zoe ran over to Misty, shouting her name.

"Zoe!" the older girl grasped Zoe's arms, her face wet with tears and terror displayed in her blue-green eyes. "How did you get here?!"

"Misty, where-" Zoe started.

"If you won't dissect a dead frog," the teacher interrupted as he strode towards them, "you will dissect a live one."

Misty pulled Zoe closer to her, "Zoe, please! Don't let him make me do it again! Please, Zoe!" the older witch pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. _He's going to make her kill the frog, _Zoe thought. She reached her hand out to grab it, but her hand went straight through. She tried again, but she ended up with her arm through the desk and her hand underneath. _What the-? _"Please don't make me kill a living thing!" Misty cried, tears forming in her eyes. She continued to plead, but the teacher forced the scalpel into her hand and pulled her arm down over the frog, dissecting it. Misty wailed, her eyes squeezed shut. The teacher's body tensed in excitement at her anguish; he clearly enjoyed this.

Zoe saw red. _He's a fucking sadist. _She reached out to grab his arm, but the room's strange physics acted again and she stumbled through him, feeling an odd crushing sensation as the two briefly occupied the same space. She fell on her backside, shaking her head in bewilderment.

As soon as the teacher started to walk away, Misty placed her hands on the frog again. When it hopped back to life, the same boy as before raised his head again. "Mr Cringley, she did it again!"

_It's happening again, _Zoe thought. _What _is _this? _

"Zoe!" Misty wailed again, "help me, please!"

"Misty I can't!" Zoe shouted back, "I can't touch anything, my hand goes straight through it!" Tears pricked her eyes, "I'm sorry, Misty!"

Zoe bolted upright in her bed just as the first rays of sun shone through the academy window. "What the _fuck _was that?!" she said aloud, although she knew. _Hell. Her hell. _She curled up in a ball and sobbed. "She's there forever...because of me," she finished with a whisper. Guilt stabbed at Zoe as she rocked back and forth on her bed, remembering...

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_"Thunder only happens when it's rainin'" _Misty sung in her low, crooning voice. Her hips swung in a rhythmic motion as she stirred the dark pink potion in the bowl. Zoe watched her with hunger. For the last few days, she'd had an overwhelming attraction to the older girl, and it scared her. Zoe had never been into girls before, and this didn't feel the same as when she liked a guy. She craved Misty's touch and comfort, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her arms and kiss her, letting the older witch do with her as she pleased.

"Can you give me a hand, Zoe?" Misty asked as she lifted her eyes to meet Zoe's gaze. They stood with their eyes locked for an uncomfortably long second and Zoe felt herself starting to melt. She dropped her gaze and mumbled, "uh, yeah. Of course."

"Crush up the ginseng and the damiana in that bowl will ya?" Misty asked. Zoe nodded and began crushing the herbs.

They worked silently, Zoe sneaking glances at Misty at every opportunity. She occasionally caught Misty doing the same and both girls would look down, embarrassed. After a few minutes, Misty broke the silence.

"How're things goin' with Kyle?" she asked.

Zoe inwardly sighed at the sound of the older girl's voice, "well...um, good, I suppose..." she answered, "it's great to be able to live with him. You know, he's always there, so we can spend loads of time together."

The older witch smirked, "and what about when you're _spending time together, _hmm?" she asked.

Zoe wasn't sure how to answer. Lately, the only person she could imagine being in bed with was Misty. Her heart was pounding, but she acted comfortable. They were only friends talking about girly things, Misty would know something was up if she started acting awkward. "I'm glad my powers don't work on Kyle," she answered, "that would make things harder."

The older witch smiled and nodded, "that's a great help, I guess." She turned to look at Zoe, "what's it like? When you..." a blush began to rise on Misty's cheeks.

"When I what?" Zoe asked.

"Ya know..." Misty's face was now a similar colour to the potion she was mixing herbs into, "do it. Have sex."

Zoe's heart beat fast. _She's so adorable._ "It's...painful at first, but you get used to it," Zoe tried to be as vague as she could with her answers; she didn't want to accidentally say something she shouldn't. "Kyle's nervous though, he never...um..._finishes._"

"What's that mean?" Misty asked, eyebrows raised in innocent curiosity.

_Damn, of course she doesn't know, _Zoe thought, _how do I put this? _"It never lasts very long before he pulls- _stops _doing it."

Misty blushed beet red, "I think some of this potion could help you guys. It's an aphrodisiac. It'll increase your..._desire_ for each other."

"Thanks, Misty" Zoe smiled.

The older witch closed her eyes and began saying an incantation over the mixture. Zoe's eyes wandered up her flawless body, taking in her long, slender legs, her corseted waist, her perfect breasts. She stopped on Misty's cupid's bow lips, noticing their every movement as they formed the sacred words. Zoe imagined pressing her own lips against them, running her hands through that wild hair...she looked away just in time for Misty to open her eyes.

"We should try some first," Misty said. She looked at the floor, nervous, "ya know, just to see if it works. Ah'm kinda new at incantations."

Zoe simply nodded, and swallowed a spoonful of the potion. She winced; the potion tasted surprisingly sweet, but very spicy. Misty did the same, fanning her mouth with her hand in an attempt to put out the non-existent flames. For a long while, Zoe felt nothing. She was about to make an excuse to go back inside when she felt Misty's hands on her waist. Her heart fluttered. _I should go, _she thought. _I should go _right now, _and forget that ever happened. _Instead, she found herself turning round and kissing the older girl on her perfect lips. She closed her eyes, savouring the amazing feeling. Her head spun with the ecstasy of knowing she was loved, she was safe. Before long, she felt Misty countering her movements with her own and slender hands stroking her thighs. The older witch lurched forward in passion and lifted Zoe up onto the botany table.

"Misty-" Zoe started.

"Shhh..." Misty placed a finger on Zoe's lips and pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. The younger girl closed her eyes, and felt Misty's lips, eager on her own. She leaned back, sighing into the kiss and allowing Misty's tongue to penetrate her mouth. Zoe broke the kiss, and ghosted her lips along the older girl's jawbone, shivering at the beautiful sound of her sighs. She felt Misty's hand groping the neckline of her top. The older witch pressed her lips to the top of Zoe's breasts, and the younger girl felt a warm pulse hit her in her core as the hungry lips kissed every inch of her cleavage. Without thinking, she pulled Misty's hand between her legs and softly groaned as the older girl began rubbing her. Zoe soon felt a wetness between her legs. The older girl placed one last kiss on the Zoe's breasts, pulled off the younger witch's top and slipped her hands inside her bra. The younger girl moaned, she didn't know how much more she could take. Her hands responded by pulling down Misty's dress and unlacing the small corset around her waist. The older witch didn't resist as Zoe skillfully unclasped her bra and paused, taking in Misty's small put perfectly formed breasts. She swirled her tongue around a pebbled nipple. Misty groaned loudly, her hands digging in to the younger witch's bare shoulders as an outlet for her passion. That was the last straw for Zoe and she let out a half scream, half sigh as her orgasm racked her body, sending a violent shiver all the way down her. Zoe moved on to the other breast while she fondled the first one. After a moment trying to contain herself, Misty shouted out, the feeling of Zoe's mouth on her breasts sending her over the edge. The older girl yanked down the rest of her dress and let it fall to the floor next the Zoe's leggings and top. She took off her pants and stood before the younger girl.

"Misty, you're beautiful" Zoe gasped. Misty's small breasts were complimented by her long, narrow waist, which tapered out to round hips. Between the older girl's legs were a mess of light brown curls, similar to the ones on her head. Zoe looked on as Misty pulled herself onto the table and slowly spread her legs, her mouth hanging slightly open to allow for her heavy breaths. Zoe crawled towards her and pushed her head between the older witch's legs. She was surprised to find Misty's centre was quite dry, obviously exhausted by the older girl's orgasm. Zoe lapped at Misty eagerly, desperate for the taste of her, the feeling of her, everything about her. The younger witch soon felt herself getting wetter in response to Misty's cries of pleasure. She pulled her head away and sat up, Misty eventually following.

"My turn" Zoe all but whispered. She pulled off her panties and spread her legs for Misty. Zoe's vagina wasn't bare, but she trimmed the hair there regularly so it didn't show when she went swimming. Misty seemed confused at Zoe's lack of pubic hair, furrowing her brow as she leaned into the younger girl's crotch. Zoe felt the older girl's tongue penetrate her, sliding in almost as deep as Kyle went. _Kyle. _Zoe's nights with him a distant memory now she was feeling what she did. Misty's tongue was out now, and she teased at Zoe's entrance with two fingers. She pushed all the way in and shifted her fingers around inside, trying to find a good position. The movement triggered a second orgasm from Zoe, this time eliciting a louder scream. She felt Misty's fingers curl and pull out, leaving a strange, satisfied feeling inside her. The older witch lay down next to her and they fell asleep, Zoe's head resting on Misty's chest.

Zoe's eyes flickered open and focussed on the sunlight dappled floor of the greenhouse. Relishing in the peacefulness of the scene, she stretched forward. Suddenly, she felt the hand on her breast. _Misty's hand. Oh _shit! The memories of the night before flooded back to her. She jumped off the botany table, pulled on her clothes and hurried into the academy, leaving Misty sleeping naked in the greenhouse.

Zoe went away with Kyle for five days, the comforting familiarity of his presence grounding her, a welcome break from the chaos that was consuming everything else. Her attraction to Misty dissipated as quickly as it had formed, causing Zoe no end of confusion. She wanted to avoid Misty for the rest of their lives, but she had to talk to her about what happened.

Zoe returned the day before the Seven Wonders. She was immediately swept up in the fight between Misty and Madison, then the Axeman showing up. It was evening before she could talk to Misty in private. She found the older girl sitting cross legged on her bed, eyes closed as she hummed along to "Edge of Seventeen". Zoe knocked on the open door.

"Misty?" Her voice was shaky. Misty's eyes brimmed and she jumped up, wrapping Zoe in an uncomfortably tight hug and burying her face in Zoe's hair.

"I missed you Zoe", she kissed the younger girl's cheek. "I understand why you had to go, Fiona wanted to kill you." Zoe felt the older witch's hands slide down her arms, "but she's gone, Zoe, she's gone, and I always knew we were meant for each other. That feeling I got before I found you, when I was meditating in the wood, it was love. I know that now. Now we can tell them Zoe, we can tell everyone about us and whoever's the supreme will pass the Seven Wonders and everything will be over. We can all be happy."

Zoe's heart broke as she pulled away from Misty's grip. "I'm so sorry this happened Misty," she started.

"What-what are you talking about Zoe? There's nothing to be sorry about." Misty's eyes widened in her fear and confusion.

"Whatever happened that night, it was weird. I don't know what it was. I was attracted to you and I don't know why, but I'm with Kyle. I love Kyle." Misty's hands shook as she put two and two together. "You're an amazing, talented, kind, beautiful witch and one of the people I trust most in this world. But I don't love you. I'm sorry, Misty."

Misty wailed and sank down to the floor. That was how Zoe left her on the night of the Seven Wonders. Curled up on the floor. Alone and in tears. Weak when she most needed strength.


	2. Queenie I

The morning council meeting had been even more dull than it normally was. Miss Robichaux's had thousands of applicants, and the council were trying to establish a system to test whether or not they were real witches. Queenie had a short attention span, and the rest of the council never seemed to like her ideas anyway, so she often found herself incredibly bored. They'd settled on bringing each applicant in for an interview where she could demonstrate her powers before she could be accepted into the academy. Cordelia had originally been opposed to the idea, saying it was "wrong" to reject girls who only wanted to join their sister witches. Queenie had to remind her several times that if the girls weren't witches at all, they would have no place and no purpose at the academy.

Queenie sighed and shifted in her seat, her eyes wandering over to where Zoe sat, tense and unusually quiet.

"What's up, Zoe?" she asked. Zoe didn't respond. "Zoe!" Queenie pinched her own backside and Zoe yelped. "What's up with you? You've hardly said anything all morning."

"Sorry," Zoe looked down nervously. "I saw something in my sleep last night. I saw Misty, and she spoke to me."

Cordelia smiled sympathetically. "I know it must be hard for you to lose her, Zoe. You've coped amazingly well, seeing as you were especially close friends with her." Zoe flinched at the last statement. "It's totally normal for you to dream about her sometimes." Queenie inwardly rolled her eyes. Cordelia's heart was in the right place, but she wasn't the brightest penny in the box, so she often ended up making things worse.

"No, it wasn't like that. This wasn't a dream, I always know when I'm dreaming," Zoe furrowed her brow in her attempt to explain, "this was vivid. It was real, but I wasn't."

"Say what?" Queenie asked.

Zoe put her hands to her head, like she was trying to physically organise her thoughts. "I could only touch the walls and the floor, everything else just passed through me, like I was a ghost. No-one could see or hear me either, no-one but Misty."

Cordelia leaned forward, intrigued. "What happened in the dream?" she asked.

"Well, it was a classroom, a science classroom. There were kids sitting at the tables and Misty was sitting with them. They were dissecting frogs. Misty kept ressurecting her frog, and the teacher made her kill it, over and over again." Zoe's eyes were brimming. "I tried to stop it, but I couldn't touch anything. I couldn't help her," her voice broke and a tear rolled down her cheek. "It was her hell. I'm sure."

Queenie was silent, perplexed. How could Misty possibly contact Zoe from hell, bring her into hell, then return her safely? _She was probably forced back by the sunrise. _Queenie was very clever. She always had an answer, and hated the rare occasions when she didn't.

"It makes so much sense." Cordelia looked up as if she'd seen an angel. _Bitch__ actually got an answer for once, _Queenie smiled to herself.

"How?" Zoe asked.

"The realm we access during Descensum is not, in fact, the afterlife. I was confused, but now it all fits."

"Yes, and...?" Queenie urged her on.

"When I went to my hell, I was blind. I expected to be able to see, since the afterlife shouldn't be subject to the restrictions of the body, but when I got there, I was still blind. I never went to the afterlife in the first place." Cordelia paused to check the girls were following, "Misty isn't dead."

Queenie frowned, "but we saw her, her body disintegrated in your arms. We're still finding bits of ash in the carpet. How can she be alive if she doesn't have a body?" She didn't like being the one asking the questions. Queenie didn't like depending on someone to answer her, or to do anything for her for that matter. Growing up in the care system, she'd learned that the only person she could truly trust with anything was herself.

They all sat silently for a while, contemplating the question. After a short time, Queenie spoke up again.

"Unless she's in a place between life and death. Maybe Descensum is like a trial period between the two, and you only really die if you stay there too long. You guys ever heard of Purgatory?" She sat back, satisfied that she was on top of the situation.

Cordelia stared hard at nothing. "Why is she still there?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the invisible point. "Why did she not die when her time ran out?"

"Misty knew a lot about life and death, with her resurgence," Zoe replied. "I remember something she said to me, when we were bringing Madison back. She said "_there's too much death inside of_ _her_." Life and death are forces, and Misty understood that." The others nodded, intrigued by her idea. "Misty's powers got stronger the more she used them. At first she could only bring back little animals, now she can bring back alligators and human beings. I think whenever she uses her Resurgence, her life force gets stronger..."

"...so she's building up her life force by bringing that frog back" Queenie finished. "She has so much life inside her that death can't fully enter her and take her to the afterlife!"

Cordelia gasped. "If she's strong enough to contact Zoe, maybe we can get her out of there. But I need to check something first." She opened her laptop and began to rapidly type. She nodded and smiled as she read what was on the screen. "You're right, girls. On all of the recorded instances where a witch has been stuck in Descensum, then contacted the living, the witch has had the power of resurgence. Normally, souls that go to hell will pass on after a while, but witches with resurgence have a life force so strong that it and death cancel each other out. Misty isn't going anywhere until we get her out of that place."

Queenie slammed her hand on the table. "Then let's get her out."


	3. Cordelia I

There it was again. _What _is _that? _Cordelia pulled her pillow over her ear. She'd heard the noise every night for a week now, ever since the Seven Wonders. It was a thin, weak wailing sound, so Cordelia originally thought it was just the wind whistling through the building. _But there's no wind tonight, _she thought. She climbed out of bed and creeped down the hall, trying to listen for the source of the noise. She checked if it was Queenie or Zoe, they were both quietly sleeping. She searched the whole floor, nothing. _It had better not be _another _spirit. _

The attic was dark. Cordelia fumbled around for the light switch, finding nothing. She sighed and stepped off the ladder. If_ only there was a kinesis for electricity... _She heard the noise again, louder this time. Whatever it was, it was definitely in there somewhere. Cordelia found what felt like a chest. She found the lid and lifted it. Inside was a small writhing figure, dressed in what felt like a lace dress.

"A baby," Cordelia whispered. Her heart fluttered, she was so close to what she wanted so badly. _Marie Laveau's baby, _she thought. Since Marie Laveau had gone, there had been no sign of the baby, so had assumed someone had taken it back to the hospital. Cordelia wondered who put the baby in the chest. Whoever it was must have been taking care of her all this time, she looked well-fed and clean. They also would have some reason to dress her as a doll. _So Spalding's still hanging around. _She lifted the crying baby out of the chest and carried her back to her bedroom.

"Ssh," Cordelia held the baby to her chest and rocked slowly. "You're safe now," the baby stopped crying and fell asleep, breathing into Cordelia. Cordelia closed her eyes and let the built up tears trickle down her cheeks. This is what she lived for, the feeling of a tiny human being that needed her, that loved her. Everything faded, her mother's contempt, Hank's betrayal, the world's expectations of her, none of it mattered. Right here, right now, this baby could be hers. All she cared about was the tiny breaths, the delicate little hands. As long as she held her here, Cordelia was a mother. That was all she needed.

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"Hello? This is Cordelia Goode. Who's speaking?" Cordelia was on edge today. She had to keep checking on the the baby, and she couldn't let any of the girls find out. They would take her back to her parents, and Cordelia couldn't handle that.

"This is Sharon Anders, Madison Montgomery's agent. We can't get hold of her, she's not answering her phone. Is she there? Could you ask her if I can speak with her?" The woman sounded worried, her nervousness wearing away at her business-like tone.

"Umm...no. She's not here. Madison left Miss Robichaux's academy about a week ago. She seemed quite angry, I thought she would have gone to you." _Shit_. Where had that girl gone? Cordelia hoped bratty actress hadn't done anything stupid, although she knew she probably had.

"Oh. She definitely didn't report a change in her address, as is our policy, so we always know where our actors are. If she...can't be found, there will be legal repercussions for you, as you're the last one who saw her."

Cordelia wasn't in the mood for any shit today. "What are you implying? That I kidnapped her?"

The woman sighed, "Ms Goode, Madison Montgomery is worth millions. She's on a contract, and that contract can't be broken. If we lose her, we'll also lose a lot of money, and whoever is responsible for her disappearance will need to pay that lot of money."

Cordelia took a deep breath. She wasn't going to win a legal battle, so she decided to be co-operative. "Okay, I'll ask around." She hung up.

Cordelia fell back on the sofa and put her head in her hands. _It's all supposed to be easy now, _she thought, _I thought the hard stuff was over._ She looked up at the glass vase on the sunny spot on the mantelpiece, filled with the ashes of the peaceful witch that had left her so tragically. She longed to hear her happy laugh and watch her dance to Stevie Nicks in that trance-like state the music put her in, twirling and swaying as if no-one was watching her. "Why you, Misty?" Cordelia said to the ashes, "if anyone doesn't deserve to be trapped in hell, it's you." She curled up around the vase and let sorrow rack her body, her sobs echoing through the room and tears soaking the sofa cushion. She kissed the vase and put it back in the sun. "I will save you Misty, just hang in there a little longer while I figure out how."

Cordelia hadn't told anyone, or fully accepted it herself, but ever since she'd lain her hand on Misty's arm and seen her extraordinary past, she'd loved her. She loved the sparkle in her eyes, her childlike innocence and how she ignited when she felt passionately about something. In such a short time, Misty had come to mean so much to Cordelia. She loved Misty, and she would save her or die trying.

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That night, Cordelia decided to go to bed early. She finished off the last of her paperwork and headed upstairs. As she approached her bedroom, she heard someone moving around inside. _The baby. _Cordelia flung the door open to see Spalding standing over the makeshift cot, a smile on his face. He slowly raised his head and smirked at her. _  
_

"I see you've taken great care of my living doll, Miss Cordelia. If you want to borrow her again, please ask me first. I was worried sick about my little beauty." He tickled the baby's cheek and she giggled.

Cordelia flung her arm forward to smack Spalding against the wall. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing._ He's a spirit._ In her rage, she'd forgotten that her telekinesis didn't work on ghosts.

_"Vade, et revetere in terram,"_ said a voice from the doorway. Spalding vanished. Cordelia sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Zoe."

Zoe smiled, and placed her hand on Cordelia shoulder. "That's okay, I saw him go in there a while ago, I was looking for the spell in the spell books."

"I- don't know what's wrong with me lately. I haven't felt up to anything, really. What with the new students and Misty being gone and Myrtle, and now your dream. I'm sorry, you deserve a better supreme." Cordelia held back tears for the millionth time that day.

"That's not a true, Cordelia. In fact, you were the supreme long before Fiona got sick," Zoe reassured. "But you need to take that baby back to its parents."

Cordelia nodded. "I will."


	4. Zoe II

"Goodnight, beautiful," Zoe felt Kyle's hand rub up and down her side.

"Night," she replied, mindful of how distant she sounded. She had so much on her mind, and she's been abrupt with him lately. _Poor Kyle, _she thought. _None of this shit is his fault. _Kyle's hand moved forward to the side of her breast. She jerked away as memories of her night with Misty came flooding back.

"Whoa," Kyle took his hands off her. "I'm sorry." Zoe looked into his eyes, then quickly dropped her gaze. She couldn't bear to look in his eyes after what she'd done with Misty. _There's no excuse. I'm a filthy, lying cheater and I don't deserve him. _Kyle was unaware of what had happened on the botany table, and his kind smile told Zoe that the knowledge would break his heart.

She placed her hand on top of his, "it's not you, Kyle," she forced herself to look into his eyes, "it's everything. I would tell you, but..." she trailed off.

"Witch stuff?" he asked, with that trusting expression that pulled Zoe's heart the hardest.

"Yeah," she replied, grateful for Kyle's naïvety. She turned away, then asked "can you hold me tonight? It's just, I'm afraid to sleep because- because-" She'd seen Misty one more time since her first visit to hell. Misty remembered her from the last time, but her anguish had not subsided. Zoe knew she had to, but she didn't want to go there again.

Kyle pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Of course. I love you, Zoe."

"I love you too, Kyle."

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The same bleak walls as before greeted Zoe. The same frightened children and stink of death filled the room. Misty still sat with her eyes closed and her whole body rigid as she was forced to dissect the frog. The striking difference was that another person stood next to Misty. She was dressed in a bright blue lace dress and her long brown hair fell loose down her back. Suddenly, she span around and gasped as she noticed Zoe.

"Zoe?! What are you doing here?!" she shouted. "You're not supposed to be here!"

Zoe quickly stood up. "Nan, I-" she started, but there was no need to explain herself to the clairvoyant.

"She brought you here. But how? She's not supposed to be able to! She's not supposed to even be here!" Nan had always been easily flustered.

"How are you here, Nan? You died, Papa Legba took you."

Nan took a deep breath. "Things are different with Papa. I can be with Luke, he lets me go wherever I want. Sometimes I do jobs for him, he says it's useful to have a witch with Salem powers." Nan pointed to Misty, "she's here way longer than she should be."

"It's because of her resurgence. Her life force is too strong for death to claim her."

"How did you know that?"

"We worked it out, Misty's not going anywhere, unless she comes back with us." Zoe's thoughts flickered back to her night with Misty, bringing up vivid memories of the hungry kisses and rough, desperate touching, and..._oh shit. _

Nan's eyes went wide, then she covered her mouth with her hand, then she laughed. "Oh, Zoe! I did not know you were a _lesbian._" She said the last word as an eight-year-old would enlighten her friend about the birds and the bees.

"No, I'm not. It's not like that!" Zoe protested, but Nan was gone before she could continue. _Dammit, it'll be sunrise soon. _She ran over to Misty, holding her head gently as Misty collapsed into her arms. "We can get you out, Misty," she said softly.

"But- but- no-one gets out of hell. I'm here forever, I know it." Misty managed to say in between sobs.

Zoe tilted Misty's head up to face her. "Misty. You can't think that way. You can get out of here. We will get you out as soon as we can, as soon as we figure out how. You hang in here until then." Zoe looked around, unsure of how to continue. She noticed Misty's black, floral shawl and pulled it off her, laying it in front of the crying girl. "You remember when Stevie Nicks gave this to you?"

Misty stifled her sobbing. "Y-yes. It was the best day of my life. Stevie gives me good vibes, wherever I am."

"Then think of Stevie. It'll help you take your mind off the frog."

"I can't think of anything but the frog! I have to save it. Zoe, I'm sorry, I _can't._"

Zoe walked through the table and let Misty curl up into her arms. She ran her fingers though the other girl's curls and felt her sobs vibrate against her chest, stirring her like they were her own. "Hey, what's your favourite Stevie song?"

"Rhiannon," Misty replied without hesitation.

"That's the one Stevie sang with us, right?" Misty nodded. "Sing it with me, Misty."

Misty nodded, and took a deep breath. _"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her?" _Misty's singing was laced with sniffs and sobs, but Zoe's heart swelled at the beauty the sentiment. She was singing in defiance of hell, in spite of everything.

Zoe didn't know the words, but joined is as best she could as Misty sang.

_"Takes to the sky, like a bird in flight and who will be her lover?" _

"Misty," Zoe held the older witch by the shoulders, "I want you to keep singing, okay? Even after I'm gone, just keep singing, whatever happens."

"Okay, Zoe. I promise." Misty closed her eyes as she was forced to hold the scalpel again. _"All your life, you've never-"_

Everything disappeared, and Zoe opened her eyes to the crumpled white sheets on her bed.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Zoe flicked over another page in her magazine. _This is bullshit,_ she thought._ I should really cancel my subscription. _J-14 had kept her occupied when she was twelve, but it just didn't cut it anymore. She heard piano music from downstairs. _Who is that?_ she thought. Cordelia was out shopping and Queenie really wasn't a piano girl.

She crept down the stairs and poked her head around the door frame into the living room. There was Myrtle animatedly playing the piano, eyes closed in her passion for the music. Zoe shook her head,_ does anybody round here stay dead anymore? _

Without opening her eyes, Myrtle patted the seat next to her. "Sit with me dear, we have a lot to discuss." Zoe obliged. _  
_

"First of all," Myrtle started, still playing the piano, "please burn those horribly trashy articles." Zoe looked confused. "Your _leggings,_ dear. They are poor excuses for clothing. Worn when one cannot find anything else to go with the top half. The epitome of half-hearted laziness."

Zoe personally thought the leggings looked good with her pink layered top and cardigan, but she kept silent, knowing better than to challenge the eccentric woman.

"I see you're young love is still blossoming, though the flower has become a little...tainted, shall we say." Zoe opened her mouth in alarm, but Myrtle continued. "You probably want to know why I've come to visit you in your mortal world. I've been simply dying to see my dear Cordelia, but this is a time of great importance for her. A visit now may...distract her from the more important tasks at hand."

"You mean Misty?" Zoe asked, wary of how much Myrtle knew - or how much she had seen.

"I do mean Misty Day. You have established that she can be retrieved from her unfortunate situation? That she will not go any further into that world?" Zoe nodded. "But you are short of exactly _how_ to execute this rescue?"

"Yes," Zoe replied. "Do you know how to get her back?"

Myrtle smiled and moved her hand down the piano to play a series of low, dramatic chords. "Alas, not everything about this is clear to me, but I do know that you will need something that will bind the souls of others to yours for a short amount of time, so that you may take them with you to see poor Misty. I know how to make such an elixir."

"Really? How do you know?"

"My dear girl, my soul has been purified in the fires of hell, and there are secrets in the flames. I know more than you would probably want me to."

Zoe blushed, wondering if Myrtle had watched her with Misty. "Misty and I, we-" but Myrtle was gone, leaving only a folder over scrap of paper with "Cordelia" written on it.

This had probably been the strangest day of Zoe's life.

**Hi, I know the chapters are quite short, but I'd much rather update every other day with thousand-word chapters than once a week with four-thousand words. Please review, constructive criticism is very welcome. **

**Thanks, **

**Faceless Emmy**


	5. Queenie II

Queenie sighed and watched the raindrops on the cracked window pane, seeing them collect on the rotting ledge at the bottom. Her gaze wandered to the wall, which had dark, speckled patches of damp that would rub off and stain her clothes if she brushed her arm against it. Sanctuary Children's Home Detroit was falling apart. It was underfunded, and none of the staff did any more than their wage required, which was to make sure the children didn't kill each other. This meant the building was dirty, food was cheap, education was poor and the children learned to look out for themselves. Weak or timid boys and girls would not last long.

Queenie spent most of her time alone. She had no interest in the other children, who still ran to the door every time mail came through in hope it might be from family. No-one sent mail for Queenie. She had long come to terms with the fact that no-one cared about her. This meant she didn't have any friends. She was fat, sullen, and worst of all, got perfect grades, which made her a popular target for teasing, but her tormentors soon gave up once they realised they wouldn't get a rise out of her.

The distorted doorbell rang, forcing Queenie out of her sulk. _The new kid gets here today, _she remembered. She hoped it would be a quiet one, not another one of those idiots who thought they owned the place.

She heard a distant voice from the front door, "welcome to Sanctuary, Daniel." Christa gave the same false welcome to every kid when they arrived at the children's home. "We hope you'll settle right in here. This is your home now, and we are your family." Of course, she didn't really mean this. Christa was the manager, and only pretended to care about the children when more important people were present. The rest of the time, she was pretty much uninvolved, earning the nickname "Miss Hannigan". Queenie could also hear quiet sobs. _Another pussy, fantastic. _

The footsteps of Christa and the new child got louder, until they emerged into the living room where Queenie was sitting. He was a small boy, about eight years old by Queenie's reckoning, wearing a dark blue T-shirt and a checked hoodie with jeans and trainers and a red baseball cap.

"This is Queenie. She's been here a long time, so she can tell you anything you need to know if you ask her," Christa said in her fake caring voice. "Say hi, Queenie."

"Hi," Queenie glanced up at him. His dark eyes met hers, wide as a deer's, his soul reaching out to hers. He was about to cry again. _He's gonna get torn apart in this place, _Queenie thought. She toyed with the idea of taking the boy under her wing, but she didn't particularly want him on her hands. She looked down again, burying her guilt in the pages of her book as Daniel was ushered to the next room, sniffling.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The earring was round and smooth. Queenie lay on her bed, tracing the pattern that was engraved into the wood. It was a complicated pattern. It looked a little like a plus sign, but with other symbols surrounding it, like leaves, curlicues, crude stars and smaller plus signs. Queenie didn't know what the pattern meant or where it was from; she pored over countless books about various tribes and cults, trying to find even a scrap of information about the earring or the mysterious mother who had abandoned her as a baby in 1999. The earring was all Queenie knew of her.

She felt her bed shift, and hastily stuffed the earring back into her drawer.

"Hey," Daniel said in a timid voice. "Umm...do you want to play cards with me?" He was blushing now, and wrung his hands as he waited for her response.

"Why don't you play with some of the boys?"

"I asked them, but they didn't want to play with me," Daniel tried to blink back tears. He was clearly bewhildered, stressed and scared. Queenie sighed.

"Alright then," she sat up and faced him. "What are we playing?"

"Blackjack? You ever played it?"

Queenie shook her head.

"Well, you have to try and get rid of all your cards first," he explained as he dealt the cards, "you start with eight cards, and we take turns putting a card down on the facing up pile, but you can only put down a card if it's the same suit or the same number as the the one on the top of the pile."

"What if I don't have a card I can put down?" Queenie asked.

"Then you have to pick one up off the facing down pile," he was smiling now, grateful that she hadn't brushed him off yet, "that makes the game harder."

"Okay, is that it?"

"No. If someone puts down a black jack, the next person has to pick up five cards unless they put down a red jack, then they're safe. If someone puts down a two, the next person picks up two cards. And if someone puts down an eight, the next person misses a go. Do you get it?"

They played four games, and each won two. Queenie was slightly put off by the boy's childishness, but grateful for the company. This was better than spending her evenings alone, like she normally did. For some reason, his innocent smile and long eyelashes made Queenie smile. _I hope he doesn't get hurt in this place. _

"Daniel," she asked.

"Yeah," he looked at her with wide eyes.

"Why is it called Blackjack?"

He thought for a moment. "I don't know."

"They could have called it 'Pick Up Two' or 'Miss a Go' or something. The black jacks are only a small bit of the game."

"It's weird, isn't it? Why are the black jacks more important than all the other cards? How come they get the game named after them? And some of the cards don't mean anything, they're just...ignored."

Queenie silent for a while as she thought about that idea, "like us."

"But we won't ignore each other, will we?" Daniel pleaded, "we're friends, right?" He blushed as he realised the forwardness of his question.

"Yeah, friends."

"You know, now we're friends, you can call me Danny of you like."

"Okay. Night, Danny."

Queenie slept slightly happier that night. It was strange to have a friend, someone to care about, and to care about her. It made her feel like everything would be slightly better. He was like a ray of hope. A light in her otherwise grey world.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Queenie ran her thumb over the earring as she remembered that night playing cards with Danny. The texture of the smooth wood was a comfort, the only constance in her tumultuous life. It had been with her always: at the children's home where she gchesrew up, at the house she'd squatted in whlie she was working at Chubbie's. She'd squeezed it in her fist when she'd lied to Cordelia about her age, afraid that she would send her back to the children's home if she admitted she was only thirteen years old.

That was a year ago now, and she had proved to Cordelia that she was independent enough to be there despite her young age. That morning, she'd visited Cornrow City, Marie Laveau's hair salon. Being with the Voodoo queen was the closest Queenie had ever felt to belonging somewhere. The girls at Robichaux's were her sisters; she would risk her life for them, but they'd had it easy growing up. As much as she tried to get over it, she still saw them as self-obsessed and privileged. The Voodoo witches were different; they knew hardship as well as she did.

The salon was pretty much the same as it had been left on the day of the massacre. The blood had been cleared, and the bodies removed, but the place was littered with broken furniture and tangled wigs. Queenie's stomach twisted; she hadn't lived with the Voodoo witches for long, but they had been a refuge she'd needed when the academy became too much.

The thing she really missed was the Voodoo queen herself. While she was tough and ruthless, Marie had consoled her and nurtured her powers, and Queenie had felt a bond grow between them, a bond she didn't fully understand, but seemed to fill a hole in her heart. Queenie visited the salon every day, looking for magical trinkets, Voodoo spells, cultural ornaments, or anything that could help her find out about her heritage, her past and the enigmatic Voodoo queen. Yesterday she had found nothing new, but she returned anyway, sure that something of great importance still eluded her.

Today, she had come prepared. The previous evening, while leafing through one of the Voodoo books she had brought back to Miss Robichaux's, Queenie had found an ancient dowsing method. It was apparently used for finding information that would aid a person in their given path. Queenie wasn't sure she believed in a "given path" or "destiny", but it couldn't hurt to try the method. Like a lot of Voodoo magic, it involved blood sacrifice, so she had sterilised and pocketed a small ritual knife. Queenie cleared her mind as best she could, and drew the blade lightly across her right palm. _"San an ap mennen wout la ' sou chemen bay m'yo."_ The Haitian spell would enchant the blood, causing it to run hot and fast in the direction the information the dowser needed, cooling and clotting if the dowser moved further away. She held her hand face-up and waited for the blood to rise.

As the spell began to work, she felt a painful heat in her hand, and blood spurted from her palm, flowing in the direction of Marie Laveau's throne room. Queenie followed, choking on a scream as the heat became unbearable. _It will only stop when I find what I'm looking for. _By now, it was gushing from her hand and she started to feel faint. Frantically, she staggered around the room, waving her hand over everything to no avail in hope the blood would stop.

Queenie collapsed on the steps, her right hand falling under the throne and resting on a simple wooden box with a golden clasp. As if a tap inside it had been turned off, the hand suddenly stopped bleeding.


	6. Cordelia II

_Eleuthero, Ashwangandha, Oregano,_ Cordelia thought to herself as she crushed the herbs. _Silver Springs _by Stevie Nicks played in the background. It had become tradition for Cordelia to play Misty's old CDs while working in the greenhouse, to honour the swamp witch's memory. Cordelia hummed along to the tune, every word reminding her of the girl's peaceful and eccentric manner.

"Do you need the Rosemary dried or fresh, Cordelia?" Zoe asked, snapping the headmistress out of her daydream.

Zoe had been helping her in the greenhouse a lot lately. She appreciated the company, but suspected that Zoe was only spending time with her out of pity.

"Actually, I need the oil," Cordelia replied. "Can you extract it for me?"

Zoe nodded and got to work. Cordelia checked the recipe for the elixir one more time; it was one of Myrtle's concoctions. She had found it the previous night under a stack of papers on her desk, unable to recall when she had put it there or what, exactly, the elixir was for. Oddly, the recipe had been folded and addressed to her. She was going to file it in the drawer with all the other recipes, but when she touched it, a vision had been triggered. A vision of Misty bolting upright and gasping on the living room floor, in the exact spot where she had died. She was surrounded by Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia herself, and and a fourth figure, who was facing away from her.

The potion was still a mystery to Cordelia, but her vision had been enough to convince her that this way her sliver of hope. Her chance to save Misty.

She looked up for a second, and her eyes caught Zoe's. The girl smiled shyly and looked down, pretending the be extra engrossed in extracting rosemary oil. Zoe was normally a polite and friendly girl, though she was often grumpy. This sudden nervousness wasn't like her at all, and Cordelia wished she knew what was wrong so she could comfort her. It was almost like the young witch was hiding something from her. She knew, however, that it was probably best to leave Zoe to herself, so that she did, looking back to her own work.

After an hour, the potion was finished. Cordelia set it on the table in front of her, and began to say the incantation.

"No!" Zoe snatched the potion from the table. "You- you can't say it yet. It's not the right time."

Cordelia placed her hand on Zoe's shoulder. She was flustered and tense, like a balloon about to pop. "How do you know that, Zoe?" she asked, controlling the tone of her voice so she wouldn't upset the girl. Zoe looked ready to burst into tears. "It's okay, you can tell me anythi- oh!"

Visions flashed through her second sight: a dark pink paste in a jar, rough wood against her back, the feeling of being penetrated with - _what_ is _that? Fingers?! _Cordelia cringed at odd sensation and flinched away from Zoe. The girl looked at her in terror, fully aware of what she'd just unwittingly shared with the headmistress.

"Zoe, I'm sorry," Cordelia pleaded, "I didn't intend to- I can't always control when I get these visions." She was always careful who she touched, in case she discovered something accidentally. She didn't want to expose anyone's secrets.

Zoe took a deep breath and perched on the table, still clutching the jar of elixir. "It's okay, Cordelia, I should have told you before. It's just- I know it's not something you'll wanna hear."

Cordelia sat down next to her. "I've been the supreme for three weeks now, but I've known the true meaning of the supremacy for much, much longer. I took on that role when it was clear to me that Fiona would avoid it like death, until both came to claim her. It's my responsibility to protect the coven and everyone in it, to the best of my ability." She turned to race the girl, "if I'm going to do that I'll need to know what this elixir is for and how you know about it. And what happened here that you're so afraid of."

Zoe nodded, a tear falling of her face into her lap. "Misty loves me. Or at least, she thinks she does." A sob escaped from her coiled up body, and she buried her face in her hands.

Cordelia's heart broke in two. Misty loved Zoe, she wanted Zoe. Her heart raced and her beautiful blue eyes lit up at the sight of Zoe. It was perfectly natural, for two teenagers to be in love. For unrequited love between teenagers (Cordelia had had enough of that when she was young). So why did Zoe's confession hurt her so much? Why did she hate the idea of the ethereal swamp witch loving someone else? "Oh, Zoe..." she comforted, at a loss for something actually comforting to say.

"I was helping her in the greenhouse about a week before the Seven Wonders and...we had sex. I'm not a lesbian, or even bisexual. I was attracted to her, but it wasn't natural. I think it was some kind of sexual magic. Maybe I'm programmed to have sex with women because I'll kill guys. But then wouldn't I just be a lesbian?" She put her hands to her temples, "I'm sorry, you could probably do without this. I don't know why it happened, but it happened.

The headmistress was stunned. She'd expected Zoe's confession to be an argument she had with Misty or that she knew something else about the swamp witch, not sex with her, anything but sex with her. _It was magic,_ Cordelia thought, _some strange side effect or Zoe's powers, or maybe Misty's. It not genuine love between them._ The strangest thing, however, was that Cordelia felt a worm of jealousy writhe inside her. She should have been repulsed by the thought of having sex with Misty, but instead, she was...intoxicated.

She forced her bitterness towards Zoe to the back of her mind, and leaned towards the girl, hesitant to speak in case whatever she she alarmed her. She wanted to leave Zoe in privacy, but she had to know what happened here. "Is that why you pushed the best botany table to the back of the greenhouse and told me you'd spilled essence of hemlock all over it? You didn't want me to touch it, in case I had a vision of you and Misty." _Goddammit, _Cordelia realised she sounded annoyed.

Zoe nodded in response. She was obviously upset by Cordelia's tone.

"It doesn't sound like Misty's situation is you fault, Zoe," Cordelia reassured in an attempt to comfort the young witch. "Why would what happened between you two get Misty stuck in hell? If anything," - it hurt her to say this - "the memory of you is probably making her happier down there."

Zoe shook her head. "No, I haven't told you everything." The girl exhaled slowly, "The night before the Seven Wonders, I told her I didn't love her," her eyes brimmed, and Cordelia braced herself for what Zoe was about to say, "I just left her there, crying. I didn't know what to do!" The young witch sobbed loudly, hiding her face in her hands. Cordelia wanted to pat her back or hold her hand or show some kind of reassurance, but she was scared of what her second sight would see.

"Never mind that, we're going to save her from there. Now tell me everything you know about this potion."

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The council sat around the living room table, Misty's ashes in the centre, and intensity hanging in the air. Cordelia had explained to the girls what their rescue plan was, and enlightened Queenie about the situation between Zoe and Misty, omitting the details of what happened in the greenhouse. Queenie was only fourteen years old, and mature as she was, Cordelia didn't feel comfortable approaching the subject.

"Let's go over our plan of action," Cordelia urged, in her best authoritative voice.

Queenie folded her arms. "We just heard it! Not sure about Sabrina here, but I'm not gonna forget how long it just took you to explain."

Cordelia glared at the girl. "Queenie, this isn't a damn game. This is our mission to save one of our sister witches and you _will_ take it seriously." Queenie blinked in surprise, but stayed silent. _Maybe that was harsh, _Cordelia thought. She was so passionate about saving Misty, and the swamp witch did something strange with her emotions.

She cleared her throat. "On The night of Monday the 16th, three days from now, we all gather right here, where you girls lay down for the trial of _Descensum._ Kyle will stand guard to stop anyone interrupting us. I will bring a knife for emergency, but other than that, we bring nothing, in case it interferes with the rescue." She paused, and the girls nodded their understanding. "We pour her ashes exactly where she was lying and lay out the clothes she was wearing the day she...departed. She's likely to be naked when she gets back, and she'll be bewhildered enough without that embarrassment. Zoe drinks some binding potion and says her part of the incantation. Queenie and I then drink some and say our part together. I send Zoe to sleep with magic, and we all go to Hell together."

"What then?" Zoe asked. "How are we actually gonna get her out? You never explained that part."

"And why wait till Monday?" Queenie joined in, "why can't we do it tonight? Are you scared to do a ritual on Friday the 13th, Cordelia?"

Cordelia smiled. "That, girls, is where our fourth person comes in. She won't join us in that realm, but she will act as a beacon to get Misty's attention and lead her back to our world." Queenie and Zoe leaned forward, intrigued. "To answer your question, Queenie, our fourth person is quite a way away right now, and we need to give her time to get here."

Zoe's face twisted in confusion, "I don't get it. Who is this fourth person? Is she a witch?"

"Yes she is," Cordelia replied, "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to help our friend in need." She stood up, and walked over to the phone. "In fact, I'm going to call her right now."

Cordelia glanced back at her council, who were sharing quizzical looks. She picked up the receivers and dialled the number. After four rings, someone picked up.

"Hello, this is Cordelia Goode. I'm the headmistress of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, daughter of Fiona Goode. Who am I speaking to?"

The voice on the other end chuckled. "Congratulations, Cordelia. I heard all about your supremacy. This is Stevie Nicks."


	7. Lucy I

_South-West London, United Kingdom_

Ever since Cordelia Goode's public announcement, life had been good for Lucy Merry. She no longer had to hide her cryokinesis from her family for fear of them throwing her out, or even - she had tried to banish the thought from her mind - kill her for their own safety. Her mother had cried with happiness, her father had assured her that they would love her no matter what when she'd revealed her powers to them. Her little sister had screamed and jumped up and down with excitement before asking "like Elsa? Like Elsa from Frozen?"

Now she had to come out to the world.

She wrung her hands as she waited backstage. An assembly was being held at the all girls sixth form college/secondary school where she was in Year 12, and all twelve hundred girls in both the school and the college were gathered in the assembly hall. The headmistress was on the stage, giving a vague introduction (Lucy didn't want any students running in terror before she'd even had a chance to explain what she was.)

She had gone to Mrs Parkman a few days ago and told her about her powers. The headmistress had agreed that it was a good idea to hold an assembly so the whole school could be educated about witches and their abilities. She would leave most of the assembly to Lucy, as she was the best person to tell them about herself.

"Please welcome Lucy Merry to tell you more about the subject," Mrs Parkman made her exit. Lucy walked onto the stage to a round of applause, bewhildered by the vast number of faces in front of her. Every teacher in the school was also there, standing against the walls and watching the students. She took a deep breath as the applause died down, never having been good at public speaking. _Better not fuck this up, Lucy,_ she thought. Two thousand eyes stared at her, unaware of the bombshell she was about to drop. She caught the eyes of her friends seated at the back of the hall. They already knew she was a witch, and their reassuring looks calmed her nerves a little. She cleared her throat. _Here goes..._

"Put your hand up if you've seen the announcement Cordelia Goode made on the news a few weeks ago. About witches." Every hand in the hall went up. "Well, um, I think that it's important that everyone knows a little about witches and their powers," Lucy walked slowly back and forth, trying to contain her agitation. "Witchcraft is hereditary. It's passed down through the female line in a family. If you were a witch, you would most definitely have a great-grandmother, grandmother, maybe even a mother who shares your gifts. The point here is that a witch is born a witch. She does not _choose_ to be a witch. You don't become a witch by practicing spells or owning cats or selling your soul to the devil or anything like that. You either are a witch, or you aren't, and you have no control over that." Lucy paused, waiting for a reaction. Most of the girls looked interested, some a little confused. _It's now or never. _

"Now you might be wondering why _I_ am the one to tell you all this. Well, when I was twelve years old, in Year 7 at this school in fact, I discovered that I have the power to manipulate and create ice wherever there is moisture. It's called _Cryokinesis _and it means that I..." she took in the expressions of amazement, horror, fear and confusion from the crowd as they predicted what she was about to say "...am a witch."

Hundreds of faces stared at her stunned silence.

She picked up a glass of water that was left on the stand and poured its contents onto the stage. She tensed her right hand, freezing the puddle of water and levitating it for everyone to see. With a clench of her fist, the ice shattered into small crystals, which she proceeded to make spin in a tornado shape, before letting them fall down and scatter across the hall.

A painfully long second passed before the reality of what had just happened hit the girls.

Some gasped, some screamed, and a few got up out of their seats and fled from the hall. In the chaos that ensued, Lucy felt like Carrie White out of the Stephen King novel, standing on a stage in front of hundreds of people, terrorising them with her demonic power. _I guess Carrie was a witch, too,_ she thought, and wondered whether the horror author had had a female relative with magic in her blood to inspire his fearsome character.

A girl seated near the front, who looked about thirteen years old, sprang to her feet. "She's a monster! A filthy, evil sinner!"

"Hey, no, that's not it!" Lucy pleaded. "I was born this wa-"

The girl held up her hand. "The sorceress will enchant you with her evil tongue. As our God said himself! _Exodus 22:18: 'You shall not permit a _sorceress_ to live.'" _

Lucy glared at the girl, "that is not true, you Bible-bashing arsehole! What are you gonna do? _Stone_ me to death? Shut your mouth!" By now, a teacher was trying to gently escort the girl from the hall. She wasn't having any of it.

"Our only hope is to rise and burn her together!" she was now being led more forcefully, and continued to struggle as she was lifted up and carried out. "She will destroy you all! God won't forget that _you_ let her live!"

_You little bitch. _

Mrs Parkman rushed to the stage, taking the microphone from Lucy before she could retaliate. "You can go now," she whispered to her. "I'm so sorry about Sebastiane, she's very strongly religious." The headmistress began to attempt to reassure the unsettled crowd, who were murmuring loudly about the drama they'd just witnessed.

Lucy stormed backstage, fists clenched. How badly she had wanted to freeze that girl's head just to shut her up. She had to keep her temper if she wanted to stay out of court. Laws had yet to be made about the use of witchcraft, but Lucy suspected that killing a girl by freezing her blood would not bode well for her future.

She hoped with all her heart that no-one else shared the little girl's views on people like her, but she knew, deep down inside, that some would.

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A week passed, and it was the last day before Lucy would fly to New Orleans to attend Miss Robichaux's Academy, at which Cordelia Goode herself was the headmistress. The plan was that she would live at the academy for a few years, until she learned enough about her powers and how to use them. She could already use her Cryokinesis very accurately, having had the power for five years now, but she figured it couldn't hurt to learn more.

Today was her "coming out" party, as she had named it, and everyone she knew would be there. Her newly public power had boosted her popularity, and now everyone wanted to be friends with "the witch". Most of them were idiots in her opinion, but Lucy couldn't help feeling giddy from all the sudden attention. She had never been a particularly social person, preferring to keep to the small circle of people she actually liked.

She sat on her bed in her underwear with a towel wrapped around her freshly washed hair. Her friends would arrive soon, and they would get ready for the party together. She pulled the towel from her hair and grabbed the long sleeved v-neck, pullover and jeggings she had worn the previous day, lazily pulling them on without bothering to stand up. With a contented sigh, she fell back on her pillows, desperate to savour the last alone time she would have in...probably days.

Giggling to herself, she froze the tiny droplets of moisture in the air above her. The tiny, almost invisible crystals rained down on her, studding her hair and clothes like delicate gemstones. She flicked her wrist and the crystals went flying out of the slightly open window.

The doorbell rang. _That will be Callisope, ten minutes early as usual. _Lucy's oddly named friend was renowned for her punctuality. "I'll get it!" she shouted, scrambling down the ladder from her attic bedroom.

"Hey, Piper!" Callisope greeted her. The nickname came from the love of vegan food Lucy shared with the main character on Orange is the New Black.

"Sup' Red?" she replied, using her friend's respective TV nickname.

They'd just got up to Lucy's bedroom when the doorbell rang again.

"Hi, Irene," Lucy greeted. The girl barged in, slamming the door behind her.

"I argued with my mum on the way here. I don't know what she would have done to me if she caught me! I had to run all the way from the car!" Irene panted, leaning against the door.

Lucy laughed. "I think you're safe now!" Irene's mother was known for her bad temper and tendency to lose it with her daughter. Irene, on the other hand, was a sweet and patient girl who bonded with Lucy over their mutual dark humour and love of _Divergent_ and_ The Maze Runner. _

The bizarre and hilarious Éliane arrived exactly on time, immediately bursting into tears over the episode of _Game of Thrones_ she had just watched. "I know, I know. I've got to warn you though, there's much worse to come," Lucy consoled her friend, having finished the series and read all of the books it was based on.

Livia, the glamorous budding starlet, arrived twenty minutes late, as was her habit. With her was a large bag, bursting with every type of make-up Lucy had ever seen or heard of.

"Wow, Livi, is this everything you've bought in Superdrug in the last ten years?" Lucy asked, grinning.

Livia laughed, "probably more like thirteen years, to be honest. Half of it is so old it's unusable, but clearing it out would take days, so everything stays where it is."

Lucy raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Come on, Barbie, let's get ready."

Callisope sat on a stool, Livia rubbing foundation into Callisope's dark skin and Lucy deftly working her hair into two braids, which she began to pin on top of her head.

"You're looking very _Lolita,_ Calli," Lucy smiled, admiring her work.

Livia threw down the pallet of foundation. "Ugh, it's too light! It doesn't match your skin."

Callisope laughed, "yeah, they only make foundation for white girls. Talk about Indian problems!"

"I do have a darker one," Livia said, producing a pot of warm brown-coloured make-up, "but it's really thick. It might not spread..."

"Give it here," Lucy insisted. She tensed her hands, and tiny snowflakes dropped into the pot, immediately melting and giving the foundation a thinner consistency.

"Thanks, Lucy!" Livia clapped and cheered. "Your powers really do come in handy!"

"Talking of your powers," Callisope started, "did you tell Saylah? You know, before the assembly?"

Saylah was Lucy's on-and-off girlfriend. She was the boyish, rocker type, with short, messy hair and a rebellious attitude. Lucy had been instantly attracted to her when she was fifteen and they were in the same music class, but failed to recognise her darker side. For months, they were inseparable, often getting into trouble at school for their public displays of affection (some staff at the school disliked the idea of younger students being exposed to such "filth" as two girls being "intimate").

Lucy frowned, "no, she didn't know. She'd probably think it was sexy though." She stared into space, displeased at being reminded of the girl she was trying to break away from.

"I'm going to get dressed," Lucy announced, snapping out of her trance.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

A cheer erupted as Lucy walked into the party. She grinned, feeling slightly guilty at the rush she was getting from being revered by the people she so often looked down on. She clapped, causing a small snow flurry around her, and strutted over to where her friends were gathered.

She wore an asymmetrical tank top which bared one shoulder and stopped just above her ribs, tiny denim shorts which showed all of her legs and her hipbones and a pair of shiny black lace-up stiletto boots which stopped just below her knees. She didn't normally go for the prostitute look, but this was her party and she was _going_ to fit in. She had crimped her long, brown hair and put in a complex side braid.

Irene danced up to her, already tipsy. "Come get a drink, Lucy!"

"Be careful, Irene, you know you're a lightweight," Lucy teased. Irene always drank too much, and was usually sick. As happy as Lucy was to hold her friend's hair back while she vomited, she wanted Irene to remember her last night in England.

Someone poked her, and she spun around with a start. It was Éliane.

"Don't look now," Éliane whispered, eyeing the other side of the room, where someone Lucy was hoping to avoid now stood.

She took a swig of her drink, and walked over.

"Saylah," she greeted cautiously, leaning against the wall next to the rocker, who wore a tantalisingly short skirt and sexy smudged eyeliner.

"Haven't seen you in a while," the girl replied coolly.

Lucy hesitated, unsure of Saylah's attitude towards her, or how drunk she was right now.

"You're looking so hot right now. Did you do that for me?" Saylah teased, snaking her hand around Lucy's waist.

_So that's how she feels, _Lucy thought. _Very well. _

"Yes, I did dress for you," she kissed Saylah hard, savouring the taste of alcohol and cigarettes she wouldn't taste again for a while.

After all, it _was_ her last night here, and she wanted it to be fun.


	8. Zoe III

Kyle's lips felt soft and warm against her neck. Zoe savoured the feeling, never wanting to leave their bed or the loving caresses of the boy she loved. She lifted his chin and kissed him gently, staring into his beautiful brown eyes. They lay back down and turned to face each other.

"Please don't do it, Zoe," Kyle pleaded, playing with a strand of Zoe's hair. "You don't have to risk your life for her. I know she was your friend and all, but this is so dangerous, Zoe. No-one's ever done this before, and there are so many things that could go wrong, you could die!" He stroked her cheek, "I couldn't keep living if you died."

Zoe felt her heart tear. He was right. She had no idea how dangerous rescuing Misty could be, and Cordelia admitted that even _she_ might not be powerful enough to pull off something so unknown, so far against the rules of magic. But she had to do it. It was _her_ fault Misty was in hell, so it was _her_ responsibility to get her out.

"I have to save her, Kyle. Without Misty, you'd still be falling apart at the seams. She healed you, and she helped me." Zoe ran her fingers through Kyle's hair, watching his eyes close in response, "I had no idea what to do with you. You were hitting everything and banging your head, you even killed the poor morgue worker! I thought you were gonna hurt yourself real bad. You would have, if it wasn't for her." She paused, reading Kyle's reaction. He was frowning, as if he was fighting an inner battle with himself. "She saved you, Kyle. Now it's our turn to save her."

Kyle stroked her wrist. "You're right," he paused for a few seconds, brow furrowed as he thought up his next words, "just- just be careful, okay?"

Zoe kissed his forehead. "I promise."

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Stevie Nicks arrived at 10am, alone in her car, with large sunglasses to cover up her face. She was dressed in what Zoe imagined was the least magical-looking outfit the singer owned, probably so as not to draw attention to herself. Today would be the worst possible day for paparazzi to turn up at the academy.

Kyle answered the door, dutifully taking her coat and showing her to the living room.

"Well, you really are a gentleman." Stevie smiled. "They're rare these days. Thank you very much." Kyle blushed, and bowed awkwardly.

Cordelia walked in, and was immediately enveloped in a bone crushing hug from the white witch. "I'm so sorry about your mother, Cordelia. She was reckless, but she burned bright and fast as flame. It was a pleasure knowing her."

Zoe sighed internally. Of course Stevie wouldn't know what Fiona was really like as a leader, and Zoe knew the old supreme's relationship with her daughter wasn't great, either.

Cordelia gently broke away from the hug. "Is everything ready?" she asked in what was probably her best supreme-voice.

"Yep," Queenie replied. "Her ashes are laid out, her clothes are on the chair, the potion's ready, everyone's here." She shrugged, "let's start."

Cordelia nodded. The supreme wore a belt today, with a small dagger attached to it. Everyone else had their hands and pockets empty, as they had been instructed. Zoe, Queenie and Cordelia sat where they had laid down for the trial of Descensum. Stevie sat at the foot of Misty's ashes, staring in sadness at the remains of the girl who had been so excited to meet her.

Zoe picked up the jar of potion, and took a deep breath. _Don't mess this up, Zoe, _she thought. _She's counting on you. They all are._ _"Alligandi omnes qui bibitis animae maeae, quo quis vult post me ingredi non regnum." _She caught Kyle's eye. He frowned in concern, his face full of fear. Zoe took a sip of the yellow liquid, and was surprised to find it had no taste, as if she was drinking slightly solidified water. Queenie was next to drink, then Cordelia. They all lay their heads down on the carpet, unsure of exactly what awaited them.

Cordelia's soft hands touched Zoe's forehead. The supreme inhaled, and Zoe felt her consciousness quickly slipping away. She blinked slowly, then fell asleep.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Zoe opened her eyes to the same white walls as before, bewhildered for a second before remembering where she was, and why she was there. She looked over to Queenie, who had landed through one of the table legs, and was waving her hand though it with an expression of simultaneous wonder and repulsion.

_"Sara, you're the poet in my heart,"_ a Cajun voice sang. _She's still singing,_ Zoe marvelled. _She's so strong, stronger than I ever thought she'd be. _

A hand grasped Zoe's. It was Cordelia's, who was staring over at Misty, tears in her eyes. "I never thought," she said in a half-whisper, "I never thought it could be _this_ bad." Cordelia's voice broke, and she shakily stood up.

Misty's head snapped up, her eyes alive with fresh hope. She gasped. _"Cordelia,"_ she said in a voice quivering with relief and fear.

_Why is she so happy to see Cordelia?_ Zoe wondered.

Misty shook her head in disbelief, "your _eyes,_ they're...different."

Cordelia beamed, which stood out in their grim surroundings. "My eyes are healed now, as is everything else." The headmistress spoke with strange intensity, her gaze never leaving the swamp witch.

Zoe smiled, touched by Misty's concern for Cordelia, despite her own, terrible circumstances. _She really is a pure soul._

"Mr Cringley! She did it again!"

"This is the cycle!" Zoe shouted, "this is how it starts, every time!"

"If you won't dissect a dead frog, you will dissect a live one," the teacher smirked, striding over to Misty.

Queenie powered over to him. "No! I ain't gonna let you-" she reached out to grab him, and her hand came away empty. Zoe was reminded of her own surprise when she first discovered the phenomenon.

Misty wailed as she sliced the creature open. The three other witches stood still, stunned by the sheer suffering in the swamp witch's voice.

"Holy shit," Queenie whispered.

Misty raised her hands to heal the frog. Zoe jumped onto her, gripping her hands and holding them up. "Now is our only chance to break the cycle! Everyone help me, now!"

Queenie and Cordelia quickly took their places by Zoe's side, holding Misty's hands away from the frog.

"No," Misty stuttered, "no, I- I- I have to save it." Her voice was certain, unrelenting.

"Come back with us now!" Zoe commanded. "Come back to Miss Robuchaux's! Stevie's there, waiting for you."

Misty hesitated, "Stevie's there?"

Zoe swallowed, "yes, she wants you to come back. We all want you to come back, we need you, Misty!" She paused, "you want to see Stevie? Just get up, leave the frog, and walk out of that classroom door."

Misty removed her hands from the frog, shaking with the effort of going against her deepest running instinct.

"Yes, Misty!" Zoe shouted. "Come back with us, you can do it!"

Misty was really struggling now, and it took all three of them to guide her towards the door at the front of the classroom. It loomed large, its importance clear to each and every one of them: it was the only way they could all get out together.

They we're almost at the door, Misty now flailing in their arms, desperate to get back to the frog. _I never knew hell could be so powerful,_ Zoe thought, awestruck and horrified at Misty's will to keep the awful cycle going. Queenie staggered in front of the group, pulling Misty with one hand and frantically opening the door with the other.

"Stop," Cordelia announced. The girls turned to look at her, trying with all their might to contain the flailing Misty.

Zoe glared at the supreme. "Are you _insane,_ Cordelia?"

"She has to go through first," Cordelia nodded to Misty. "It'll take the strength of _all_ of us to push her through."

The girls used the last of their strength to push Misty closer and closer towards the door, the power pushing against them getting stronger and stronger until they got her to the threshold.

With sudden and enormous force, she was thrown back into the room, landing on top of Cordelia.

_She can't leave this place against her will,_ Zoe realised. _She has to _want_ to get out. _

Zoe shrieked. "We can't save her! We _can't_ _save_ her. Why her? She doesn't deserve it! She's done nothing wrong!" She was crying now, her head turned upward to face an imaginary higher power. "Papa Legba, can you hear me? You're a _coward. _A fucking coward! You trapped an _innocent_ girl and made it _impossible_ for her to get out!"

"We have to leave her, we haven't got much time left!" Queenie shouted, "I'm so sorry, Zoe!"

Zoe blinked back her tears and noticed Cordelia. The supreme slowly rose from her position on the floor, her eyes fixed on Misty, who was almost back to the frog. She pulled out the dagger she had brought with her, and held it away from her chest.

Zoe put two and two together, _the only thing that's more important than saving a frog...saving a person. _

She lunged toward the supreme. "Cordelia! Don't-"

Cordelia flicked her arm back, and Zoe flew backwards through the air, winded. Queenie stood stunned by the door.

"Misty!" Cordelia shouted, with every bit of urgency and intent she could muster. Misty paused, and looked around.

Cordelia plunged the dagger into her chest, screaming with the pain of the impact.

"Cordelia!" Misty screamed her hand stretched out towards the headmistress.

With a gasp of pain and shock, Cordelia wrenched the blade out of her heart. Blood pulsed from the hole, and the supreme collapsed to the floor.

Misty was on her immediately, hands over the bleeding hole in Cordelia, purging death from her radiant body. "C'mon, Cordelia," Misty urged. "C'_mon." _

She raised her blood covered hands and hovered them over Cordelia's body, her whole body tense. Silence filled the room, death hanging in the air.

Cordelia sputtered awake, groaning in pain. Zoe ran over to the headmistress. "_Vitalum Vitalis," _she chanted, and felt her life energy deplete. She held her swimming head, and her double-vision slowly cleared. Cordelia was back on her feet, rushing to get Misty back to the classroom door.

This time, Misty opened the door herself, and paused in wonder.

"I can hear Stevie! Stevie's callin to me! Let's get outta here." She ran through the door, disappearing in a flash of light. Queenie followed. Zoe was almost at the door when she felt a dark presence behind her. She stopped, not quite daring to turn around.

"So the little witch is saved," a thick, French-Jamaican accent chuckled. Zoe looked round in horror. There was a dark-skinned, red-eyed man in dreadlocks and a top hat adorned with skulls.

"Papa Legba," Cordelia said, her voice dripping with hate.

The deity stared at Zoe, his head tilted slightly in mock confusion. "You were angry with me for taking her, no?" he asked in a menacing tone as he walked towards her.

Zoe knew Legba was far more powerful than any of them, even Cordelia. She froze in fear, expecting him to cast her back to her own hell, or set her entire body alight with a twitch of his finger.

Instead, he stopped. Then he knelt down in front of her.

_What the hell?_ Zoe thought in confusion. _Is this some kind of trick? _

He gasped in wonder, as if he had suddenly sensed something. "Oh, she is perfect. She is glowing with life!" He laughed, "one day she will surely lead you all. A _pureblood._"

Zoe and Cordelia stood frozen in surprise. _What's he talking about? I'm none of these things! What does he mean, I'm a..._pureblood_?_

Papa Legba reached his hand out and twisted it in the air. Zoe felt something very small change inside her.

The deity laughed again, more sinister than before "she will pay the price nicely. It is funny, no? The son will die so the father may live, instead of the other way around."

_Is he going to keep me here in Misty's place? _Zoe thought frantically,_ but he said "the _son_" would die, not "the _daughter_"! And what _father_ is he talking about?!_

Legba chuckled, "go on, have the swamp witch back. But remember this:" the witches hung on his words, desperate to grasp what he was talking about, "only death may pay for life."

And with that, he was gone.

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Zoe felt a jolt of energy as she opened her eyes, propelling her body to sit up. She breathed heavily, reeling from what she had just endured. She turned around to see Queenie, Cordelia, Kyle and Stevie hovering over Misty. The swamp witch was laying naked on the ground and breathing frantically, each inhalation lifting her back off the ground and each exhalation sending it crashing back down. No-one dared touch her.

Zoe lent her hand to Cordelia, who squeezed it gratefully. They all stared in silence at the flailing Misty, knowing that all they could do now was wait.

After three minutes, Misty's breathing slowed, before finally coming to a stop. Cordelia turned away, wracked with quiet sobs. Stevie took the supreme into her arms, stroking her back and rocking her slightly.

"At least she's not in that awful place anymore," Queenie concluded. "She's in heaven now."

Zoe wasn't listening. "No, Misty," she whispered. "You came back. It's not fair."

She would never get over her guilt now. Her small hope of putting right what she did wrong was gone. She felt empty, lifeless, like there was no reason to hope anymore. Kyle held her from behind, and she dropped her head against his chest, staring at the swamp witch's lifeless body.

Suddenly, Misty's eyes opened.

"Misty!" Zoe shouted in delight. "We thought you were dead!"

Cordelia knelt down and pulled Misty into a crushing hug, neither of them caring that the swamp witch was still naked. They stayed like that, lost in the joy of being with each other again.

Zoe felt uncomfortable.

Finally, Misty broke away from the headmistress, instead noticing Stevie Nicks standing in front of her.

"Stevie!" Misty all but jumped on the singer, enveloping her in an even bigger hug than the one she'd just given Cordelia. "What're _you_ doing here?"

Stevie patted Misty's back, smiling. "That doesn't matter. I'm so glad you're back, darling."

"Ahem," Queenie reminded. "Clothes, Misty." She threw Misty's lacy black dress at her.

The swamp witch blushed deep red, realising that she's just hugged her idol, naked.

"Oh, Ah'm sorry," she muttered, grabbing her dress and pulling it on. "What's the next trial? We've still got...um...Transmutation, Divination, _Vitalum Vitalis_ and Pyrokinesis. Or have we done Pyrokinesis...?"

The other witches blinked, unsure of how to reply. _She has no idea how long it's been. Poor Misty._

"Or have Ah been disqualified? Ah guess you lot havin' to come save me counts as me failin'."

Misty paused, scanning the others in the room. "Where's Madison? And where's Myrtle?"

Cordelia raised her head, her face grim. "Madison left us. She ran off...somewhere."

Misty nodded, a concerned expression on her face. "What, in the middle of the seven wonders? Why? She really wanted ta be the supreme."

Zoe noticed Kyle shuffle uncomfortably. _Poor Kyle, Madison had a big hold on him, then she left without saying goodbye. He probably misses her. _She tried not to be worried by the idea of Kyle _missing_ the starlet.

Cordelia opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"And Myrtle?" Misty asked, breaking the silence.

"She's gone."

"What, already?!" Misty exclaimed. "What happened? Ah was only gone a couple hours!"

_Oh God, _Zoe shook her head, _she's worse than I thought. _

"Misty," she started, trying to be soft in delivering such hard news, "you've been gone longer than hours."

Misty's eyes widened, "how long _have_ Ah been gone?"

Zoe hesitated, reluctant to say what she knew she had to. "You've been gone almost three weeks, Misty."

Misty's face contorted in disbelief. "But...how?"

"Time passes differently in hell," Queenie answered. "A whole night here is five minutes there." Misty nodded, half-understanding. "Which means your twenty days in hell would have seemed like..." she paused, doing the calculation in her head, "just over two hours."

Misty frowned, considering what she'd just been told. "So who's the supreme? Zoe" Or Queenie?"

"Actually," Zoe answered. "It's Cordelia."

Cordelia smiled modestly.

"Cordelia!" Misty smiled, pulling the headmistress into another hug. "Congratulations! So _that's_ why ya eyes are all healed up! You'll be the best supreme this coven's ever had, Ah know it!"

_She's handling all this really well,_ Zoe thought, surprised at the swamp witch's calmness. _But then again, calm _is_ her forte. As well as hyperactive levels of excitement. _

As if she had heard Zoe's thoughts (which was entirely possible), Misty turned to Stevie. "Stevie, can ya play another song for us?" She looked down, remembering herself, "if it's okay, Ah just-"

"-it's fine, Misty." Stevie assured. "Seeing as you literally just went through hell, I think you should pick the song..."

Misty beamed, "um...can ya play Gypsy? It's one of ma favourites. Well actually, they're all ma favourites."

Stevie chuckled, "well I'm flattered. And yes, I certainly can play Gypsy." She paused, "you know, that song may as well have been written about you." She turned away and started towards the piano, Misty following like an excited puppy, a huge smile on her face.

Zoe caught Queenie's eye, and they shared a knowing smile. Misty was finally back, and she was the same as she always had been.


End file.
